


the stone inside you

by Widric



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Character Study, Complicated Relationships, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, kind of, real sad oni hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-06 23:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Widric/pseuds/Widric
Summary: Ibaraki’s hand itches.





	the stone inside you

**Author's Note:**

> i have. a lot of emotions about these two morons.
> 
> for faolan! this is their fault!!!
> 
> title from richard siken's "seaside improvisation."
> 
> uhh quick trigger warning for not-super-graphic and mostly unintentional self-harm; more detailed warning + more notes at the end.

Ibaraki’s hand itches.

She’d never admit it out loud, of course - she’d rather die than admit any weakness. (She tries very hard not to remember her embarrassing defeat at Rashomon.) And it’s not enough to impede her skills in battle, so it’s certainly not an issue, or anything.

It just... itches.

It’s easy enough to sneak off, when Master is distracted by counting the embers brought back from the gathering trip. (Ibaraki was only there as backup - she hadn’t even entered the battle.) Nobody bats an eye at her as she stalks the halls back to her room - surely, too frightened at the presence of a real, live oni!

Ibaraki turns a corner a little too hard and hits her shoulder against the wall. Nobody glances in her direction, even as she bites her tongue to stop the yelp threatening to escape her mouth. The rest of the walk back is uneventful, and she keeps her head down.

It’s been a good while, but she still isn’t used to her room. Ibaraki can never quite adjust to sleeping so far above the ground, even if it is only about half a foot. She knows that Shuten managed to wheedle a futon out of Master from the last time she’d visited the other oni’s room, but when Ibaraki tentatively sat on it she could tell it would be too soft to sleep on. Oni are used to the hard ground and a dark, starless sky. At least, Ibaraki is.

Not that she thinks any less of Shuten for it, of course! Shuten is wonderful, the most amazing oni Ibaraki has ever witnessed, and if she wanted to sleep on something soft, then Ibaraki would raid every village she could find, gathering the finest blankets and laying them at her feet!

It’s just.

Shuten had never begrudged sleeping on the ground, before. She’d had Ibaraki for warmth - she’d had all the oni on Mt. Oe, as well as her own, soft robes and fine wine to keep her warm, of course! ...But, burned into Ibaraki’s memory are the fleeting recollections of a night that chilled her to the bone, of Shuten drawing her closer, trailing a warm hand down her shoulder blades, smiling down at Ibaraki as if...

Ibaraki doesn’t want to ask her when that changed.

Her hand itches. At the wrist, right where palm meets arm.

She sits on the bed, and frowns when she sinks into the mattress. It’s so soft. She can’t sleep in it, for fear that her claws—no, no, she can’t sleep in it, because it’s too soft, and she’s used to the ground. Oni need nothing more than a clear patch of ground to sleep. If she tore the sheets, that would be their own fault, for being so flimsy. They’d deserve it, really.

Her teeth catch on her bottom lip, and she realizes that she’s been scratching against her wrist for... a while now, probably. It still itches, so she sinks her claws in harder without looking down.

Everything is so soft, in Chaldea. So fragile. Ibaraki is used to things being fragile, probably. It’s been so long since she didn’t have to worry about her own strength, and she certainly can’t remember the time before. She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t have to, Shuten said she didn’t, Shuten said that—

Ibaraki realizes that her other hand is wet.

She looks down at her wrist, to where she’s scratched through to bone. The nice, white, too-soft sheets are stained a dark red.

“Oh,” she says. It’s quiet in the empty room.

She wraps her hand around the wound, pushes mana towards it, and pulls. Her hand pops off easily, with a little wet noise that echoes in her ears. The mana that makes up her wrist recognizes that she’s technically releasing her Noble Phantasm, and heals over instantly. The stump of her hand flames weakly, like it’s trying to launch itself out of her hand, before giving up and flickering out. After that, she just pushes it back up against her arm, and the two mold back together as if they’d never been separated in the first place.

Good as new!

Her hand still itches.

 

* * *

 

Ibaraki only feels a little guilty about stuffing the sheets in the laundry pile and leaving as quickly as she can. It’s not like she knows much about getting blood _out_ of fabric, after all. Maybe Shuten would know...

She thinks about explaining to Shuten _why_ there’s blood on her sheets, and quickly decides against it. She doesn’t even use the sheets, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter whether they get back to her or not. Archer will probably make some pointed remarks to everyone at large about asking before using the laundry bin or something equally ridiculous, and Ibaraki won’t say anything, and they’ll all go on with their lives. Un-lives. Deaths. Reanimations?

Whatever.

She turns to head back to her room, to curl up on the ground and sleep the itching off, but her feet carry her down a different hallway. She stops, hesitant, in front of Shuten’s room. The door is closed, but she can see light underneath. Ibaraki lifts her hand to knock at the door, but freezes.

What is she _doing_? Surely Shuten is busy at this time of night. She could be drinking, or perhaps sleeping, or...

Well, it’s possible that she’s with somebody. _With_ with, that is. Ibaraki doesn’t have a problem with that, of course! Shuten has always been a seeker of pleasure in all forms, and Ibaraki admires her all the more for it, even if, historically, she’s wanted to crush every partner Shuten’s ever had into dust. Not that she would, of course, because the last time she had Shuten had gotten annoyed with her and nearly left Mt. Oe.

Ibaraki would really rather die than interrupt Shuten if she’s... busy... so she turns to leave—

“Come in, Ibaraki,” Shuten calls from behind the closed door.

Ibaraki certainly does not let out an undignified squawking noise, and also absolutely doesn’t nearly break the door off its hinges when she enters. “H-how did you know it was me!?”

Shuten is lounging against the wall, pillows at her back and blankets spread across the floor, almost completely burying her futon. The room smells the same way Shuten does - the sickly-sweet smell of rotting fruit and alcohol, and underneath that, the metallic tang of blood. It’s familiar, and something inside Ibaraki unclenches a little bit, to know that Shuten still smells the same.

(It’s not like Ibaraki hadn’t seen her just yesterday, but. Things change quickly. She can never be too certain.)

“I could see your feet under the door,” Shuten says, and smiles up at Ibaraki. Ibaraki smiles back, automatic but sincere. As long as she can see that smile, she knows that everything will be okay.

“Come have a drink with me,” Shuten lilts, tilting her head sideways and waving a lazy hand at the sake gourd resting beside her. “It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?”

“Yes!” Ibaraki hurries to agree, perching on one of the less-soft pillows. “But, um— is that okay? I’m still not quite... as good as you, with alcohol...”

Shuten laughs, and Ibaraki flushes. She’s not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or affection. “Do you think I’m not aware of that, Ibaraki~? Have a drink with me anyway.”

“T-then, I will! Gladly!” Ibaraki can’t keep the pleased expression off of her face as she takes the sake dish Shuten offers her, filled to the brim. The drink is sweet enough that Ibaraki doesn’t have to try and hide the way her face screws up a little whenever she drinks something strong.

Shuten scratches idly at her neck, somehow making it look elegant, as she takes another sip from her own dish. “Have you been getting into much trouble, in your absence?”

“Um,” Ibaraki says, and tries very hard not to think about the faint itch still below her skin. “No? Wait, I mean yes! Yes, I have been, of course! An oni causes trouble wherever they go!”

“Oh?” Shuten asks, laughing again. “Still inconveniencing our master?”

“Well,” she flounders, “Maybe a little. But not... too much?” She can never be sure, is the thing, whether Shuten wants her to antagonize their master or not. She’s been scolded for it before, but she had been trying her best to be properly oni-like...

Shuten just nods, so Ibaraki assumes it was the right answer.

“A-and you, Shuten?” she asks. If a part of her is hoping the answer is not “I’ve been keeping busy,” followed by a wink, that’s nobody’s business but her own.

“I suppose much of the same,” Shuten sighs, and scratches at her neck again. This time, she makes a face, and sets down her sake dish. “Honestly, why today... one moment, Ibaraki. My collar is bothering me.”

Shuten reaches behind her neck and unlatches the invisible clasp holding her innermost layer together, peeling the black material away from her skin so she can scratch freely at the

the

Ibaraki forgets how to breathe for a moment. Shuten doesn’t seem to realize, and rubs elegant fingers against the line that once severed her head from her body.

The scar is dark against Shuten’s neck, dark and jagged. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Ibaraki had expected it to be smooth and clean, that Raikou had severed Shuten’s head as easily as she sliced through everything else. This, though, looks like her head had been sawed off, like the blade had slipped from its path, Shuten’s oni-tough skin deflecting it in a last-ditch effort to protect her. It must have hurt, Ibaraki thinks with a sharp inhale. Enough to wake Shuten from her slumber. Enough for her to nearly bite through Raikou’s god-given helmet.

“Ibaraki,” Shuten says, chiding, and Ibaraki realizes that she’s crying.

“I’m sorry!” She scrubs at her eyes, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop right away, I promise—“

She can tell that Shuten moves closer, even without looking, by how the other oni’s pleasant fruity-alcohol smell gets stronger. Even with that, though, she startles at the touch on her arm. When she looks up, Shuten looks... sad?

“Shuten?” she asks, worried. “What’s wrong? I, I stopped!” Her eyes drift back down to Shuten’s neck, and she shudders involuntarily. Ibaraki’s mouth twists, and her eyes well up again. _Damnit._ It must be the sake, it must be stronger than she'd thought...

“I’m sorry,” she croaks out, curling into herself. Shuten’s hand is warm against her arm, and she doesn’t want to lose that warmth, but she’ll give it up in a heartbeat to avoid embarrassing Shuten even more.

“Have you not seen my bare neck before, Ibaraki?” Shuten asks, her voice quiet. Ibaraki shakes her head, and her horns bump gently against Shuten’s. She cringes back immediately, accidentally dislodging Shuten’s hand in the process.

This is ridiculous. Oni aren’t sorrowful. They’re pround, angry, and vicious, just like Mother always said. Ibaraki should leave, right now, and hunt down Raikou, or Kintoki, and rip them limb from limb for daring to harm so much as a _hair_ on Shuten’s head—

Shuten’s arms wrap fully around her, and Ibaraki goes as still as a statue. She can feel Shuten’s chin on her shoulder, her hands on Ibaraki’s back. Shuten is warm, warmer than the fires that burn within Ibaraki’s chest, and softer than anything.

“You’re still far too human, Ibaraki,” she murmurs, but strokes Ibaraki’s hair, smoothing it down over and over again. Ibaraki shivers once more. Her eyes can’t seem to stop tearing up. “Far too concerned with the likes of me.”

Any thoughts of protesting against the first half fly away with the second. “O-of course I am,” Ibaraki insists, fingers twitching. She’s not quite sure where to put her hands. It’s been so long since... since anyone... since _Shuten_...

“You are my sworn brother, Shuten, the greatest oni—“

“Ibaraki. My death was not your fault,” Shuten interrupts, quiet but firm, and Ibaraki shatters.

“I,” she starts, fighting against the sobs threatening to overwhelm her throat even as she sinks against Shuten, all the strength in her limbs gone. Of course it was! How could it not have been? She can hate Raikou and Kintoki all she wants, hate until the grudges drip from her bones and consume her like a bonfire, but that won’t change anything. “I should have stopped you - I should have known—“

“It was not your fault,” Shuten repeats. “Every decision I made was of my own accord. I have no regrets, Ibaraki. I lived as I wished, and died as I wished.”

Ibaraki wants to scream. It’s almost worse, hearing that— because it means that Shuten knew, that Shuten _left her_ —

“Ibaraki,” Shuten says, more of a sigh than a word, and falls silent. Ibaraki clutches onto the front of her robe like a lifeline. She can’t stand it— she hates— she _loves_ —

Ibaraki’s heart beats violently in her chest, and she can’t tell whether she’s afraid that Shuten will apologize, or afraid that she won’t.

“I’m proud of you,” Shuten says, instead, and Ibaraki _wails_ into her shoulder, sobs no longer confined to her chest. She isn’t even sure what she’s saying, anymore - Shuten meets each “I’m sorry,” with “don’t be,” each “I _tried_ ,” with “I know.” Ibaraki is lost, drowning in anger and sorrow and regret, and the person she cares most about in the entire world holds her as she shakes apart in her arms.

“You can stay as you are, Ibaraki,” Shuten says, drawing back to press a kiss to Ibaraki’s brow. A blessing, a brand. “I’ll accept all of you, this time. You have my word.”

Ibaraki clings, and cries, and loves, and Shuten doesn't let go.

**Author's Note:**

> tw: ibaraki claws through the skin on her wrist until she hits bone in a mostly-unconscious attempt to scratch a phantom itch. also there's a mention of shuten being decapitated, but, uh, yeah.
> 
> i have very detailed reasoning behind shuten acting the way that she does, and one of these days i might actually write that! anyway have you guys heard benienma's line about ibaraki being formerly human because let me tell you, i have been completely unable to stop thinking about it. that, and kintoki's second interlude. please dw give me more oni content i'm BEGGING YOU
> 
> anyway sorry about this absolute disaster, i'm trying out this thing called Finishing What I Start Writing. thank you for reading this far!!


End file.
